


Horizons

by ladymdc



Series: Here we are [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: After Ending Spoilers (Mystic Messenger), Another Story Spoilers (Mystic Messenger), Attempt at Humor, Choi Saeran has Anxiety, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant, OC is not the MC, Recovering Choi Saeran, Self-Worth Issues, Soft Choi Saeran, V | Kim Jihyun After Ending (Mystic Messenger), V | Kim Jihyun Good Ending (Mystic Messenger), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, marshmallows in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc
Summary: Saeran knew there was no perfect, that there would always be struggle.But then he learned someone could look at him, could see the broken person he tried to hide so well, and want him all the same.





	1. The way our horizons meet.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place outside of canon parameters, but it is still tagged “not canon compliant” because the rest of this series takes liberties with the timeline and details we felt were vague &/or plot hole-ish. As this is part of a joint AU/Vverse the following pairings will make semi-regular appearances:  
> 
> 
>   * V | Kim Jihyun/Chloe Pendleton (Custom MC)
>   * 707 | Choi Saeyoung/Olivia Lee
>   * Han Jumin/Poppy Owens
> 

> 
> Also, my [Ray | Saeran Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/miracook/playlist/3V4kE8LluCwgSHDdgAFgW7?si=hIPteNpMTL-kLZzqbf4stg) for anyone who would like to check it out. 
> 
> (when the times comes, explicit chapters will be marked as such with **)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I spent way more time than a normal person should looking up flowers for this fic, I went ahead and linked them to pictures in my Google Drive.

Saeran’s fingertips skimmed an elongated, leathery leaf.  _[Plumeria ruba](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hb65_Hp4-CoJhNKAUINK1RBfc1Ilnngq/view?usp=sharing),  _ commonly known as frangipani, was a genus of eleven species of shrubs and small trees in the dogbane family native to tropical America from Brazil to Mexico and the Caribbean. The branches were brittle and covered with thin, grey bark. It produced a milky sap that could irritate the eyes and cause dermatitis in susceptible individuals. Of which he was not one. 

Clusters of flowers bloomed into five-petal pinwheel shapes, white with a yellow center. Different cultures had produced different meanings for the blossom, but the symbolism of grace and new beginnings could be traced back for centuries. Saeran had long accepted those were concepts he would never experience. That he had been dealt his lot in life, forsaken and forgotten by God and the world, and that was that. But now, there he stood, free, breathing in fragrant air under a tree Saeran had once thought he’d never see outside of pictures on the internet. 

His clothes clung to him, and he swiped the back of his hand across his brow. The conservatory was humid, but a faint rush of fresh air soothed over his sweat-dampened skin, almost like a breeze. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the atmosphere around him. It was easy to imagine, for a moment, that he was really there, in some foreign place where he could get lost for hours, seeing things he’d never seen before. The hum of the ventilation system was barely audible, but it was a reminder, nonetheless, that he wasn’t.

Perhaps someday. 

He opened his eyes. For the longest time, Saeran could not control the world he was in, could not walk away from things or people or situations that caused him distress, but now he could. It was true, Saeran loved his brother. Loved the knowledge that Saeyoung never did forget about him, loved his friends and the bottomless support everyone in his life gave him. And yet it all threatened to crush him, the thought that he was undeserving made him want to buckle under their combined weight. 

His therapist had reassured him that this was normal, that it was nothing to be ashamed of. What was important was learning to work through these feelings, not let them rule him. Saeran had been seeing him for a long time now, and they continued their sessions via video call ever since his return to Korea. He had helped immensely with the memories that used to claw at Saeran, teaching him ways to calm himself and new ways to perceive what had happened to him and why. Now, they mainly focused on how to rationalize fears and worries, and when Saeran couldn’t fight it all back entirely, that it was ok to just step away. 

Find a quiet place, and wait until the good was no longer buried beneath the bad. 

As Saeran did this, he barely noticed a woman approaching until she was almost upon him, but he saw her, and he offered a tight smile as he stepped closer to the edge of the pathway. He was not in the way by any means, but such behavior was reflexive. 

“Hello.”

Saeran startled a little because he had not been expecting her to stop and speak to him. “Uh… hello,” he replied, returning her quick, casual bow. 

“Sorry to bother you,” said the woman with eyes the exact same color as wet soil. Dark and rich and full of life. “But I wanted to come over and introduce myself since you don’t seem to be working for once. My name is Elle.” 

Her shoulder-length hair was one shade lighter than her eyes, and it perfectly framed her pale, oval face. She was smaller than Saeran, but not by much. The clothes she wore looked comfortable. A pair of jeans with a large hole in the left knee, a dark grey t-shirt, and black low-top sneakers.

Nothing about her was familiar except for the maroon, full-zip hoodie with the Seoul Urban Sketchers logo on it. Random club members were as much of a fixture as Saeran was at the botanic park. As a horticultural groundskeeper, interaction with visitors was not required, but on the rare occasions anyone interrupted his work, he did he best to help them with whatever they needed. One on one like this, however, there was nothing for him to hide behind and he was terrified she would be able to see how awkward and unsure of himself he really was. 

Saeran gestured vaguely. “Your shoe is coming untied.”

“Oh! Thank you. Could you hold this?” Elle held out the book that had been tucked into her arm. 

“Sure,” he said. The sketchbook was thick and well-worn and had her name embossed in golden, block lettering that popped against the black cover. A couple of pencils were slotted into a holder affixed to the spine.

Elle stooped down to fix her laces. “I assume you snuck away from that wedding out by the waterfront?”

“Yes. It’s my brother’s,” Saeran told her suddenly feeling out of place in his black slacks, white button-down, and shiny leather shoes. 

“Do you hate the bride or something?”

Saeran snorted at the thought of disliking Olivia. She was patient and kind and balanced out Saeyoung’s more chaotic tendencies. In the beginning, it had been uncomfortable. He didn’t know Olivia, didn’t care to encroach on her space, but in truth, after eight years, he had felt the same about his brother. Saeran had only agreed to move in with them because he didn’t want to be a burden on Jihyun any longer. However, adjusting to the new arrangement had been easier than anticipated. Olivia’s presence alone seemed to disperse the tension hanging heavy in the air, then she had done what she could to bridge the gap between him and Saeyoung. 

There for a little while, Saeran had been upset her life had been put on hold because of him. That Olivia had made promises to Saeyoung but received little to no forward progress in return. But in the end, Saeran was glad for it; glad they had decided to wait until he could be a part of it all. 

“Not at all,” he said, allowing himself to smile, slightly, as he handed her belongings back. “Why would you ask such a thing?” 

“You just didn’t sound very happy about it.” 

“I’m not particularly… good in situations like that. Sometimes it makes everything harder to deal with. Here, it’s easier.” 

Briefly, Saeran wondered why he was being so frank with a stranger, why the truth seemed to come so naturally. Then he had to fight back the embarrassment churning in his gut. Luckily, Elle was not regarding him with ridicule. In fact, her expression had not changed, outwardly, but she seemed almost sort of amused once Saeran had felt his face heat. Of course, his brain chose that moment to unhelpfully note the way her eyes shone and the soft curve of her lips as she smiled, and the temperature in the conservatory ratcheted up another twenty-five degrees.

“Until I came along at least,” Elle commented.

“No, uh, this was unexpected, but not unwelcome,” Saeran admitted.

“Still, if you’re trying to have some t-t-time alone, I should leave you to it.” 

It was Elle’s turn to blush, and Saeran couldn’t help the way his heart tripped over itself at the sight. He didn’t understand what had caused it or her sudden decision to depart, but he hoped he hadn’t made her uncomfortable. 

Saeran cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Alright. I’ll see you around?”

“I’m sure you will,” she said, partially opening her sketchbook to pluck out a loose page. “But if you’d like to grab coffee or something, here’s my number.”’

“Ok,” he agreed even though he could hardly believe she’d be interested enough in him to suggest such an occasion. “It was nice to meet you.” 

Elle took a few steps backward. “It was nice to meet you too,” she said, giving him one last smile before she turned around and walked away.  

Idly, Saeran slid the thick, creamy paper between his fingers and thumbs as he stared at the pathway where she had disappeared. He knew what infatuation felt like, knew what it was to yearn for things and people he couldn’t have, and he certainly had no desire to feel the sting of it again. Lurking behind those thoughts, however, was the knowledge that not only had Elle took notice of him but had sought out some ideal situation in which to approach him. He didn’t know if that was better or worse, but it was at least different.

Then, just as he was emerging from the encounter in a somewhat positive light, Saeran realized with a vague sort of horror that he never told Elle his name. The thought of rushing after her to correct the oversight made him want to retreat into bed and hide and glancing down at the contents of the page only drove his anxiety up another several notches. Saeran could feel his heartbeat speeding up as his chest began to constrict. 

He reminded himself there was a simple solution to this, and he would be able to handle it once he pulled himself together. Needing some water and fresh air, Saeran decided to head back to the wedding party. Throughout the walk, he focused on his breathing and worked through some of his preferred calming exercises. By the time he made it back to where he had abandoned his suit jacket, tie, and a glass bottle of artesian water, whatever that was, Saeran was able to acknowledge that he had messed up, but it also wasn’t the end of the world. He had been caught up in his own insecurities, and that was nothing new. 

Setting the paper down on the table, Saeran removed the boutonniere, a single blossom of  _[Platycodon grandiflorus](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lCA5zJcn-YnHWonAEpsYjhkHriVPjVp3/view?usp=sharing) _ with a sprig of  _[Gypsophilia](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1iAbK4reJoHxmuWM0XKRWm8AydWoBKs3B/view?usp=sharing), _ from his jacket lapel so he wouldn’t accidentally squash it when he sat down. Saeyoung and Olivia had chosen the purple flower because it looked like a star, but it symbolized friendship and endless love and honesty. Baby’s-breath was a standard bouquet filler, but it also represented everlasting and undying love, including family and platonic bonds. It all fit; fit the wedding, fit the RFA, fit  _ them,  _ and Saeran wondered if Elle knew the significance of the tree in the sketch she had given him.

The piece of art was breathtaking in its detail, and it amazed him something like this could be crafted by a simple pencil. It was of the  _ Plumeria  _ tree they had just spoken next to, and beneath it was Saeran, tending to the soil. Chewing on his cuticle, he fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. He had been working at the botanic gardens for about two months now, and according to his calendar, the date written in the upper left-hand corner lined up with his third day on the job. Saeran could only assume this was the first time Elle had seen him, but it sent a fuzzy warmth through his chest nonetheless. Either way, giving this to him was an incredibly thoughtful gesture, and not one he ever could have expected or anticipated.

At the very bottom of the page was her name, a phone number, and a doodled smiley face. Saeran put her number into his contacts, then looked up the Seoul Urban Sketchers online. On their main page was a brief summary:

> _ Calling all artists, sketchers, cartoonists, and general overall doodlers. We encourage each other, learn from each other, and admire each other's work. We use art to socialize and to discover our communities. Our meetups are twice per week, but not mandatory, so join us when you can; we hold to the Urban Sketcher Manifesto.  
>  _
> 
>   1. _We draw on location, indoors or outdoors, capturing what we see from direct observation._
>   2. _Our drawings tell the story of our surroundings. It becomes a first-person account of what is happening in our community and in our lives._
> 


Saeran resolutely ignored the upcoming meetups tab, but browsed through the photos, finding Elle in only one off in the background. Then to his equal parts chagrin and relief, Saeyoung appeared, bending down, so his head was poised only a few inches away from Saeran’s own.

“Wow, that brings back memories.”

A pause as Saeran sorted through stories that Saeyoung had told him, stories that must be taken with a grain of salt, and came up empty-handed.

“What does?” he asked as Saeyoung plopped down into the neighboring chair. 

“Being a stalker. It must be part of our DNA,” he replied, shrugging. 

“I am not stalking anyone.”

“Research then.”

Saeran nodded, then abruptly stopped and chuckled a little in embarrassment. “You can call it whatever you like as long as you drop it.”

“Why would I do that?” Saeyoung asked, a lazy smile ghosting over his lips.

Saeran made a noise, a quiet hum at the back of his throat because he didn’t want to mention it, not really, but he did anyway. “Because you owe me after yesterday.”

“You did not have to leave the house; Livy kitty just wanted some pets before we were separated for the night and she was so happy when I—” 

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” 

Saeyoung laughed. “What? Why not!? It’s not like we don’t do it all the time.”

“I am aware,” Saeran pointed out. He may be inexperienced, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Was it because she was dressed up like a—”

“Oh my God, we can talk about this,” Saeran decided, making an abortive gesture towards the sketch. “If you never mention that again.”

“You have yourself a deal, my dear brother,” Saeyoung said. 

Saeran sighed, reminding himself Saeyoung was just trying to pull him out of his own head. In his usual pain in the ass way, of course. Then Saeran began to outline what had taken place, speaking in fits and starts as he tried to adequately explain why he was so bothered. Saeyoung listened with a thoughtful frown on his face, never once looking in his direction. When Saeran was finally done, they sat in silence for a few seconds, watching as Chloe dragged a helpless looking Jihyun out onto the dance floor. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Saeran added, although that fact was glaringly obvious. 

“What do you want to do?” Saeyoung asked, looking at him. 

“I just said—“

“No, there’s a difference. You’re looking at this like it’s a problem you need to solve, but you don’t have to do anything. Not unless you want to.”

That made sense, even if it didn’t feel that way. “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” Saeran murmured. 

“There’s nothing wrong with hope,” Saeyoung told him. “I wouldn’t be where I am now without it.” 

“I didn’t even tell her my name.” 

Absently, Saeyoung nodded, eyes flickering away as he sought out his wife. “I know you think a lot of what I tell you is bullshit, but even around all the mistakes I made, what really happened is… so much better than anything I could have ever dreamed up,” he said, voice quiet. 

Then he grabbed Saeran and pulled him in for a crushing side-hug. Saeran reached up with his own hand and placed it around brother, returning the half-embrace. 

“Especially the part where Livy dressed up like the cute little kitty she is to surprise me,” Saeyoung added, smirking. 

Saeran dug his fingers into the soft spot of Saeyoung’s shoulder and said: “You are such an ass hat.” 

He squawked out some noise and flinched away, then Saeyoung started laughing. “Now I’m going to make one and wear it all the time, just for you.” 

“You are the worst.”

He hummed in agreement at the words, a small smile on his face. “Thanks for the compliment.” 

Saeran laughed despite himself. “Go away.” 

“Okie,” Saeyoung said then winked before he ran to the dance floor where he jumped in the middle of everyone and destroyed their perfectly synchronized movements to do the running man. 

Shaking his head, he lifted his phone from the table and only hesitated a moment before sending Elle the first thing that came to mind. 

_ [Saeran] Sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier, but my name is Saeran. _

He began bouncing his leg up and down restlessly, eyes drifting to the dance floor where Olivia and Chloe were now doing the running man alongside Saeyoung. Then there was a short buzz from his phone a few seconds later, and Saeran clicked it open quickly.

_ [Elle] No need to apologize. I’m just glad to hear from you so soon. _

~~I can’t imagine why.~~

_ [Saeran] I’d like to take you up on that offer to grab coffee, or something, so I can thank you in person for this sketch.  _

_ [Elle] There is a little place not far from here called Big Sky Bakery that I really enjoy.  _

_ [Elle] They have tea too if you’re not a fan of coffee, not to mention a fantastic bakery selection. _

_ [Saeran] Ok. Tomorrow?  _

_ [Elle] Sure! They close early on Sundays, but as long as that is alright, you pick the time since I picked the place.  _

_ [Saeran] 10 am?  _

_ [Elle] I’ll be there! _

Saeran set his phone down and dragged a hand down his face. It was sure to be more than a little disjointed and fumbling, and he wasn’t sure how long Elle would want to be there with him. Just a quick cup of coffee or for longer. But he would stay for as long as she liked. So when Saeran noticed Olivia waving him over to join their ridiculous dancing, he did, because if he was going to end up embarrassing himself tomorrow, he might as well try to get used to it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shenanigans I reference with Saeyoung/Olivia has been [*clenches fist*] written. It's a nonsense smutfest coauthored with one of my good friends. You can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819918/chapters/46928746). ♥️
> 
> Also, Elle's face claim for any interested: [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UkIuvPnAdTdUQrPRoy8e6EwW5DbGRecn/view?usp=sharing).


	2. Never saw it coming.

At 10:03, Saeran sat at a table for two in Big Sky Bakery, gazing out the window and trying not to panic.

Seoul was a very beautiful city. However, it always seemed even more so when he was removed from the hustle and bustle of it, which the bakery provided. It was located a few blocks from the botanic gardens, and Elle calling it little had been generous. There were only two tables, and based on the polite expression of surprise Saeran had received from the woman behind the counter, they were not often used. 

After explaining he was there to meet someone, she had brought over a small vase of  _[Lavandula.](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cyhG9luOP9jBZcUsibpOIMPiv_6PclA6/view?usp=sharing) _ Saeran had thanked the woman despite his trepidation ramping up. It was undoubtedly a courtesy Elle would be aware of; lavender was innocent enough for the occasion, but the uncertainty of what that was precisely had been a constant point of stress. He was the opposite of a social butterfly, and while he could make pleasant small talk, this was different. Underneath it all, however, Saeran couldn’t help but be intrigued. 

He had left some kind of impression on Elle. There must be some reason, some cause, some logic that Saeran would like to understand, and it was the only thing keeping him steady as the seconds continued to tick by. 

Three minutes was hardly late, but the possibility of Elle not showing had crossed his mind. Or perhaps something terrible happened to her. It was a little ridiculous how quickly that became his primary concern, but Saeran knew what it was to suffer, to experience the kind of agony that made him want to crawl out of his own skin. He could feel the memories starting to poison his thoughts, and just when he was about to rein himself in, Elle ran by the window. 

Quietly, Saeran breathed a sigh of relief. Then the door swung open, and his heart hiccuped when she smiled the moment their gazes locked. Saeran felt his lips quirk in return.

“Ellenora!” greeted the woman. “Welcome. Here for the usual?”

“Oh, no,” Elle said, cheeks flushing pink as she walked over to him. “Something different today.”

At that, the woman raised her eyebrows, watching as Elle sat down before coming over to take their order. They decided on a mixture of sweet and savory items to share, and Saeran requested that Elle recommend him a drink. He did not know what constituted good coffee, and he was more than a little curious about what she liked. It wasn’t long before Soojin, the proprietor of the bakery, was leaving again, order taken.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Elle said. “I couldn’t decide on what to wear, and I lost track of time.” 

The admission was strangely comforting. Saeran had a similar crisis but dealt with it the night before, so there would be one less thing to worry about come morning. After hours of indecision, he had realized he was overthinking things. Disregarding formal attire, because that would be definite overkill, Saeran had decided on his favorite pair of jeans, white high-tops, and a white button-down left open over a black t-shirt. It was casual, but not too casual should Elle dress up, which he couldn’t tell if that was the case. 

Like the day before, she looked comfortable, but in a different way. Elle wore a navy blue shirt tucked into a high-waisted, rust-colored skirt with simple black flats. Beautiful in a way he couldn’t fully understand, in a way he wasn’t entirely certain he was capable of comprehending.

He wondered what it meant; if it meant anything.

“It’s ok. You look nice,” Saeran told her, still smiling to himself. Then he felt his heart flutter as Elle smiled back, eyes soft.

“So do you.” 

A faint thread of uneasiness moved through him. Everyone had scars, and not all of them were physical. Saeran had an abundance of the latter, but it was his half-ruined body that marked him forever as someone who had once given up. He took a breath and pushed it aside because the compliment had been given with sincerity. 

“Thank you for that, and the sketch. I wish I had said so at the time.”

“It’s fine,” Elle replied, waving him off. “Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t look at it until after I had left.”

It was true that Saeran had been unable to look away, but now his eyes easily slid from Elle. It was hard enough to put himself out there. Harder still, not to weigh her every look and word, and wonder if Saeyoung had been wrong. After all, hope had always been Saeran’s downfall.

“Why is that?” Saeran asked. “It was beautiful.”

Elle shrugged, one-shouldered. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I believe we have the time if you’d like to try.”

One corner of her mouth lifted, the action slight; then there was a long pause before she spoke.

“Yesterday, you told me everything was easier there in the garden, and I guess I could say the same about sketching. I make art for a living, but my sketchbook is different. It’s a quiet, peaceful way for me to process everything,” she told him. 

“Do you mean like the bit in the club manifesto about it being an account of what is happening in your life?” Saeran asked, then rushed to clarify how he knew that. “I was curious, so I looked it up after we spoke.” 

“Understandable,” she said, soft and kind as if picking up on his embarrassment and trying to soothe it away. “But yes, it’s sort of like a journal. I’ve done it for as long as I can remember.” 

Then their conversation suspended into a brief silence as their order arrived. Soojin had split everything and set a plate before each of them. Saeran inhaled, letting his eyes flutter closed at the aroma. It smelled wonderful, and after watching Elle taste her first selection, the steamed pear, Saeran sampled the hotteok. The pancake was crispy, and inside, it was perfectly sweet and gooey. 

“So then why sketch me that day?” 

“That wasn’t the only t-time I’ve drawn you, but…” Color crept into her cheeks, and Elle bit her bottom lip as if she wanted nothing more than to keep the answer hidden. “Um, that day it was because you looked really content in your work and that’s something hard to find.”

“It is,” Saeran agreed quietly. “I used to work with computers, but now there’s no pressure; nothing for me to prove. I feel useful in a way that helps me sleep at night.” 

Elle nodded, a little crease forming between her eyebrows as she seemed to consider for a second, and Saeran realized with sudden, mind-shattering clarity that she would ask about his past. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but there wasn’t much he would tell her besides how he tried to keep it all bottled up, secret and safe, so he could keep it under control. Then Saeran almost missed Elle speaking entirely under the vacuum of his worries.

“I freelance and real work is pretty scarce; I get maybe one good job a month. To make ends meet I do commissions, which can be fun depending on the subject matter, but let’s just say I want to do more than draw dicks for a living.”

Saeran practically choked on the hotteok. Grabbing his iced coffee, he tried to chase it down and not cough or splutter too much.

“I guess I could have phrased that better. Are you ok?” Elle asked, sounding bemused but concerned all the same. 

“Sorry. Yes, I am,” Saeran replied when his airway was finally clear again. Based on how hot he felt, he was sure his cheeks were bright flaming red, so he took another quick drink, actually tasting it this time. There was a subtle hint of chocolate that balanced out the stronger espresso flavor, and at least a splash of milk to give the drink its caramel color. 

“Not everyone is comfortable making explicit art, so I get plenty of work but…” Elle trailed off, gesturing vaguely. 

“I’m sure you will get to where you’d like to be. It can’t be easy, but you seem well on your way. I mean, this is good.” For emphasis, Saeran tilted the clear, lidded cup before setting it down. There was a cartoon sun peeking out from behind a puffy cloud that read  _ Big Sky Bakery, _ and the smiley face on it matched the one on his sketch at home. 

“And there are no dicks on it.” 

“Are you sure?” Elle asked, eyes alight with mirth.

“Now I’m afraid to take a closer look.” 

She laughed, and Saeran’s heart stopped. The sound was bright and full of joy, lighting up the restaurant like her artwork on the cup. Elle was honest and open, and they were learning about each other in a way he had never experienced. It was a little thing but somehow still the most important fact of all.

Elle shook her head. “I wouldn't do that to Soojin. I love this bakery, and I offered to help with branding a little pro bono. Sometimes the simplest thing will stick in a person's mind.”

“Like me?” Saeran asked before he could stop himself. 

“I think you are far from simple,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t really live in the moment. I watch the world go on around me. But I noticed you do. Even when you d-don’t want to be.”

He dropped his gaze because it felt awkward to disagree with her. “That’s not always true. We met yesterday because I had to step away.” 

“But I imagine you tried before you left to find another moment to live in.”

Surprised by how lovely she had made that sound, Saeran looked up suddenly. His heart skipped a beat or two at way Elle nervously fiddled with a piece of gotgamssam. It was apparent she was living in this moment, in this little pocket of time and space that they had created for just the two of them. Despite how fumbling and timid he felt, Saeran wanted to stay with Elle in this moment for as long as he could. 

“I’m glad I did,” he told her. “Because it led to this one.” 

The corner of her mouth curled up then, just as it had earlier, but softer and sweeter. 

After that, the conversation flowed easier. It seemed like they had finally clicked, had finally gotten past that initial awkwardness and careful hesitance. Something about what Saeran had said finally broke down that barrier, and he was grateful for it. 

They talked a lot about work; discussed their likes and dislikes, but avoided touching too close to the past, which was as comforting as it was bothersome. No doubt Elle was being mindful of the obvious trauma he had survived, but Saeran also suspected she had her own history she wished to keep safe and hidden. Elle was shy and reserved yet possessed a fierce determination to do what was necessary to find her way in the world, no matter how uncomfortable it might make her. It spoke of someone who was used to struggling alone, spoke of something Saeran understood all too well.

He hadn’t really been aware of the time passing, and it was only after Soojin came over, asking if she could get them anything else before it was time to close up, that he realized how long they had been there. They both declined, and Saeran left the table to go to the counter and pay.

Elle followed after him, and her hand gently landed on his forearm as he took out his wallet. “Saeran, wait.”

He froze to half turn toward her, not breaking the warm point of contact between them. As he looked down at Elle, her cheeks tinted a slight pink. Then Saeran felt it, felt the affection bloom in his chest, curling around his heart as it beat a little faster. There was something inevitable about the moment, and he wondered if she had felt it too. 

“What is it, Elle?”

“Um, you don’t have to. I can pay for my own share.”

“I’m sure you can, but I want to,” Saeran told her, smiling reassuringly.

“Ok. Thank you then,” Elle said and smiled back, a slight quirk of her lips but there all the same. 

She removed her hand but stayed at his side as he squared away their bill with a promise to return. It was a lovely bakery, and he understood why Elle was partial to the place. Just outside the door, she turned back to him and reiterated her appreciation, looking a little embarrassed.

“It’s nothing, really,” he insisted. 

“Perhaps to you.” 

Saeran wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. His financial situation, the gesture itself, or whatever this had been between them, which mattered to him quite a bit. He took a deep breath and glanced around. 

They were in the heart of the city, but a couple of blocks from the main thoroughfares. There were tourists and locals alike about but not in swarms. It was unlikely he would be recognized. It had been six months since his return, and it hadn’t happened once, but Saeyoung’s constant worry kept him slightly paranoid about it. He and Jumin had gone through great lengths to shield Saeran from the public, and the news had faded as quickly as it had broke. Plus, the few photos that had been released were heavily photoshopped. No scar, mint eyes and red hair; the opposite of what he actually looked like. 

Habitually, Saeran stuffed his hands in his pockets. He never knew what to do with them. “I’m not sure where you’re off to next, but I’d be happy to walk you there.” 

“Sure,” she said, turning away and he went. “I’m headed home; since I spent yesterday with the club, I have some work to catch up on. My apartment building is just around the corner.”

There followed a comfortable silence; the two of them merely enjoying the company and afternoon. Then Saeran remembered something that had piqued his interest earlier.

“So, why don’t you go by Ellenora?” 

She averted her gaze a moment. “I can’t say it without stuttering.” 

He had attributed the occasional stammer to nerves. The last thing he had meant to do was bring attention to a point of insecurity.

“I am sorry if I just made you uncomfortable,” Saeran said, frowning. 

“Oh no, you didn’t,” she said earnestly; the light flush of color complimenting her complexion well. “I’m just— hyper-aware of it.” 

“I barely noticed it,” he told her. 

Elle came to a stop, glancing over at the nearby building before looking up at him. Her gaze was so penetrating that it made him think she could  _ see _ the broken person he tried to hide so well. Then she smiled one of her now familiar small smiles. They were quiet and private, and something that said more than words ever could, and Saeran knew then that this could be the beginning of something. He didn’t know what, but he would figure it out; however long it took and whatever the cost.

“I like you,” she said, taking a step forward. With great care, Elle brought her hand up and placed it on his chest to fidget with a button on his shirt. “I’d like to see you again.”

He had never kissed anyone before, nor been on a date, but Elle didn’t need to know that. Not right now at least. He reached out, the movement of his arm almost timid until his hand was near her temple. His heart raced as he brushed an errant lock back into place.

“You will,” he told her because he felt the same way. 

She was standing so close that it barely took any effort at all for Elle to tilt her head up, to lean into Saeran so that she was a hairbreadth away. He moved too, in perfect synchrony, ducking his head a little as she pressed a light kiss to his mouth, soft and sweet. 

Saeran didn’t believe in perfection, but for a brief moment in time, everything was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, since I spend a lot of time researching details, the following are brief descriptions of the bakery items I mentioned: (1) baesuk is a pear dessert that can be either poached or steamed. (2) hotteok is a popular Korean street food made from a simple yeast dough with a sweet syrupy filling made with brown sugar, cinnamon and walnuts. AND (3) gotgamssam are walnuts wrapped in dried persimmons.
> 
> Also, here's to hoping this thing doesn't devolve into soft marshmallow smut. 🤞
> 
> [for anyone interested, I dropped a commission of these two at the end of [Ghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797440/chapters/44600530). Fair warning, that fic **IS** for soft marshmallow smut & working out my BE1 feelings]


	3. The pieces I've yet to place.

Elle lifted her fingers in farewell as her friend looked back over her shoulder. Even after she had been swallowed up by the crowd, Elle could still feel those piercing hazel eyes on her. The tendrils of doubt that had been slowly taking root burrowed deeper.

Somehow it all came back to her. It always did. And as the train began to move, Elle attempted to envision their future, to see where they would be in a few months or even weeks, but all she could make out was Saeran’s shadow. Pulling out her phone, Elle almost hit the call button before realizing she had no idea how to put into words what was going on in her head. Plus, calling would imply there was a problem, and there technically wasn’t. 

_ [Elle] Hey, I’m on my way back from Incheon, mind if I stop by and see you?  _

_ [Saeran] Not at all. I am almost done for the day anyway. Would you like to meet at the waterfront?  _

_ [Elle] Yes, that sounds nice. _

_ [Saeran] Ok. See you soon.  _

Elle frowned a little, locking her phone and sliding it into her back pocket. Briefly, she thought about Saeran and how she preferred to deal with everything by never talking about it, but then tucked that thought away. There had been a time where Elle had repressed too much, had become rage-filled and had her fair share of drunken fucks simply because it made her feel something else. But then she had realized she was turning into her parents, and she had been determined to avoid that fate. 

They had not been terrible people just flawed and easily swayed by selfish desires. Sure, there had been times Elle suffered and felt abandoned, but there were also moments that shone in her memories, little beacons of hope and love. Her mother and father had been dead for years now, leaving Elle to languish in a system bound by tradition and complicated adoption laws, but she no longer held any ill will toward them. They had only been human. 

Like everyone, Elle had her own faults, but her life was hers. Hers to take charge of. And to do that, she didn’t have to accept her flaws, but she did have to acknowledge them. Had to do what was necessary, even if that meant stepping outside of her comfort zone. 

Elle was not quite sure enough of herself to emerge unscathed from situations where she had been let down, but enough to override lesser fears that would only hold her back. She knew Saeran at least enjoyed their time at Big Sky Bakery enough to make it a weekly reoccurrence, but beyond that, she couldn’t be absolutely sure. And that was all she wanted. Reassurance. It was the only reason she was currently walking down the sidewalk toward the park’s waterfront instead of waiting until the following morning to see him. 

The sound of her name being called out startled Elle out of her reverie, prompting her to turn around. Seeing Saeran slowing his stride down from as jog, smiling, sent that now familiar warmth building in her chest. Elle knew him and didn’t, not really, but there was something about him that made her want to and be known in return.

“Saeran,” she said slowly, letting the name linger on her tongue, but before she could say anything else, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. 

Elle could feel herself freeze up in surprise but quickly relaxed into him. Her hand moved to his chest, where she could feel his heart beating. His pulse was slightly faster than usual, a bit more defined. The kiss itself was warm and soft and familiar yet unexpected because it was something that had always been reserved for their parting farewell. It lasted longer than usual, but still not as long as she would have liked. 

Standing straight, Saeran stared at her with his searching eyes, his half-smile, and the scent of soap on him. They had so many elements of a relationship in place already, only a few crucial things keeping them in this odd limbo, close but not quite there.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” 

“Not at all,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

“You look like you have someplace to be,” Elle observed. He was wearing an olive button-down and cargo shorts; not the type of clothes she knew he worked in. 

“Just here, with you,” he said, putting his arm around her as they continued walking. After a beat, Elle carefully placed a hand on his back in return and leaned into the contact.

They decided to sit under a nearby tree, the cool patch of grass overlooking the Han River. A humid haze filled the June evening, and sunlight sparkled on the water. Insects flitted here and there above the water's surface. 

“How was the meetup?” Saeran asked. It was usually the first thing he inquired about when they met up on Sunday mornings, so the question did not come as a surprise. Especially considering she did not really enjoy last week’s and had told him so. 

Sinpo International Market had excellent food and was a fun place to visit, but it was not conducive to the purpose of her sketchbook. She preferred the quieter areas tucked away in and around the bustling metropolitan cities. Places where she could take everything in instead of walking away feeling like she only had more to process. 

“It was nice,” she said. “I really like the architecture in that area, so there was more to do than people watch.” 

“Do you mind if I take a look?” 

“Not at all,” Elle said, fishing out her sketchbook from her bag and handing it over with some measure of trepidation. If were anyone else asking, someone who would only see pictures on paper, that wouldn’t be there. But Saeran knew what it was to her, knew why only graphite touched the pages of her personal sketchbook. 

As a child, pencils had been her only available medium; color had been reserved for school or special projects. It was a divide that had remained over the years, though the reasoning behind it had changed. The truth was, there was a raw honesty to it. In reality, there did not exist only light and dark or right and wrong; there were a million shades of grey in between. Something Elle had discovered early on, whereas most people woke up one day to a world made of rules they hadn’t even known existed.

Moments passed in silence as Saeran carefully flipped through the pages. It was not tense or uncomfortable, just quiet and reflective. The sort of silence she enjoyed. Elle studied him while he studied her, memorizing him further. She barely noticed the scar even if other people often stared. It was merely a part of him, just like the bone and muscle underneath the damaged skin. Another shade of grey on the page before him. 

There was a thoughtful sort of frown on his face as his thumb skimmed underneath the date in the upper left-hand corner. The page contained a perspective study on Saeran that Elle had done a few days prior while she was thinking about him.

“So, when you said…” Saeran trailed off, words fading as he looked up suddenly. As Elle continued to look at him, color crept into his cheeks, and she decided that Saeran blushing was one of her favorite things to witness. The way it spread across his pale skin, matching the hint of pink in his silvery hair and highlighting the warmth of his bright golden eyes. 

It was a moment she would never be able to accurately immortalize without color. 

One corner of her mouth curled up. “What?”

“Nothing. I just—I wasn’t expecting you to be looking at me like that.”

“Well, that’s not what I meant, but like what?” Elle asked, allowing an amused smirk to spread across her face as his cheeks darkened further.

“I don’t know,” he said, laughing as he glanced away in embarrassment. “It’s gone now.”

It might not be written on her face anymore, but she was still feeling it. Elle could not say when she started loving him, she only knew that she must. It was the only explanation for the fear she felt, a quiet sort of fear, but a fear nonetheless. Before him, it did not exist, but Elle would not go back and choose a different path, even if this one hurt her in the end. 

She reached out and carded her fingers through his hair and thought the words she was too afraid to say. It was too soon, this thing between them too undefined.

“I’m sorry,” she said, watching the way his hair fell back into place as her touch left. “What were you trying to say?”

Saeran gently shook his head. “I didn’t realize I was on your mind so much.” 

Feeling that unease that had brought them together, she turned her face away from him. Then Elle was disappointed with herself for not opening up as she should.

“I’d like t-to see you a lot more than I do, and honestly, before I got here, I thought you didn’t want that.” 

At that, he straightened, suddenly tense, and Elle automatically turned her gaze on him. He gazed right back, seeming quite troubled. 

“You thought I didn’t want to spend time—with you?” Saeran breathed softly as if testing the question out before saying it aloud. 

She nodded and nearly smiled until she saw the regret in his eyes. After waiting a few seconds and gauging that would be the extent of her response, Saeran glanced down at the book in his lap.

“The only reason I never asked for anything more was that I didn’t want—”

Something burned through her lungs. Elle drew in a breath, but the pain was still there. “Didn’t want what?”

“I didn’t want to be an imposition.” 

Elle almost laughed out loud. Thankfully, she managed to restrain herself. She might be relieved, but he was clearly upset.

“An imposition? Saeran, why on earth would you think that? I told you I liked you on day one. We talk in some form almost every day,” she said softly, baffled by where this could possibly be coming from. 

“It’s hard to explain,” he said flatly, closing her sketchbook and trying to hand it over as if dismissing her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

She put her hand on it, but gently pushed it back toward him. “There’s still a lot you don’t know about me too, but isn’t that what we’re doing? Learning about each other because we want to?” 

After a moment, he put the book back where it had been, then nodded. But either Saeran's thoughts had petered out, or too many were crowding together because he just stared blankly at her name embossed on the cover.

“You never have to tell me where that stemmed from if you don’t want to. We addressed the problem, we can move past it,” Elle said. “Unless you’d rather not.”

“That’s not what I want,” he insisted, looking at her. “I want to move past this, but I don’t know how to. I’ve never been on a date before you, and even if we get past this, there’s still so much for me to navigate through.”

The revelation that she was the only one instead of one of many was a pleasant surprise. If Elle had known, perhaps she might not have been so forward, but then they might not be sitting there together at all. 

“So, then was I your first kiss?”

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly, looking confused. “Why are you smiling?” 

Elle nudged him with her shoulder. “Why aren’t you? Was it not good?”

“I don’t know,” Saeran said, running his hand through his hair in agitation. “I have nothing to compare it to.”

This time there was no stopping her laugh, and Elle covered her face to stifle the noise. “I’m sorry. It's just—“ A pause as another trickle of laughter escaped her. “I’m trying so hard to make you feel better, but you’re just turning it all against me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. It’s cute.”

He shook his head, giving her a small but genuine smile. “No, I shouldn’t have said that. It was perfect. They all have been.”

“I was going to say, I could try again if I need to.” 

Cupping her cheek, Saeran gently touched her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I’d like that, but there’s something I should tell you first.”

“What is it?” Elle asked.

Sighing, Saeran withdrew from her then. Everything about him suddenly screaming separation. His features pinched into a mixture of guilt and apprehension. Perhaps even a hint of shame. He looked as if the weight of whatever he was carrying around was going to drag him under. 

‘It’s, um. It’s about who I am.”

“Ok,” she said, cautiously reaching out to take his hand.

The stress radiating off of him diminished some as Saeran threaded their fingers together. Then he cleared his throat. “Do you remember a couple of years ago, all that scandal that surrounded the former Prime Minister and one of his illegitimate sons, Saeyoung Choi?”

“Vaguely,” Elle answered, puzzled by the seemingly unrelated question. She did, in fact, remember it, but she had aged out of the system not too long before then and had been primarily focused on standing on her own two feet. Anything that did not directly affect her wasn’t something she had paid much attention to at the time. 

“Saeyoung is—” Saeran hesitated then as if picking his way forward very carefully. “My twin, I am the missing brother, or was, at least.”

It hit her then, where this carefully maintained distance had come from. Saeran was under the delusion that mattered. That he would be treated differently or cast aside simply because of who he was and the trauma he had endured because of it. Elle supposed it was fair he expected that. She did recall the reporters and paparazzi had been ruthless with his brother. Following Saeyoung and lurking around, waiting for an opportunity to squeeze more of the story out of him until it had become apparent he wouldn’t allow it.

“Oh,” Elle said, frowning. “Isn’t he also the guy who made the SevenStar drink?”

Saeran exhaled in amusement. “He is, and it’s awful. But you’re doing it again, trying to make me feel better.” 

“I don’t want you to be unhappy. I mean, I know the past matters. It—shaped who we are, and if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here, but I’ve learned looking back doesn’t help me move forward. And I’d rather do that with you than without.”

“Elle, I—” His gaze flickered down to her mouth, but she hesitated, wanting to kiss him less than she wanted him to kiss her. Elle didn’t have to wait long. Saeran’s hand pressed into the small of her back as he leaned into her. 

For once, there was no reservation to it despite how his movements remained unhurried. The softness of his mouth soon gave way to the taste of peppermint as his tongue drifted over her lips, and Elle opened to him. Each tentative brush of his tongue alongside hers sent a faint thrum of desire moving through her. A blush rose over her cheeks, matching the one staining Saeran’s when they finally broke apart. Still, the expression on his face was brighter than any sun. 

“Saeyoung has been giving me endless shit for not being transparent with you. I’m never going to hear the end of it now.”

She hoped he understood that she did not need to know everything. The vague outline of events that had shaped his whole life was simply a beginning, not the end. But just in case, he didn’t. 

“Hey, Saeran?”

“Yes?”

“It doesn't matter.”

Saeran laughed, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “Have dinner with me.” 

Like on the day they had met, Elle was wearing the comfiest and least attractive clothes she owned, surely looking a mess after a day out and about in the heat, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“I’d go anywhere with you,” she told him, feeling why that was welling up inside her as she fell for him a little more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More things I now know a lot more about than I used to: Korean public transportation, architecture, markets and parks... *insert exasperated Yoosung emoji here*


	4. Can you feel the moment of truth?

The following weekend, Elle found herself at a two-story glass house out on the coast to celebrate Saeran’s and his brother’s birthday. Usually, she did not care what other people thought of her, but this was different. She wanted to make a good impression on the people who were important to Saeran, and Elle couldn’t afford to mess up. After everything he had endured, she did not want to be seen as one more thing waiting to happen. 

The thought made her want to throw up. 

Saeran seemed to share some of this nervousness as he had been quieter than usual on the drive there. It wasn’t until the initial introductions were out of the way that they both relaxed some. Everyone was very polite and welcoming, and not long after settling into the group, she found herself engaged in conversation with Saeran’s surrogate father, Jihyun Kim. 

“Saeran tells me you are an artist. I presume these paintings are yours?” Elle asked, gesturing at the nearest one. 

Short, broken brushstrokes, not smoothly blended or shaded as was customary, captured the play of light through the varied use of color. The focus of the piece and his life based on how the greyish-greens gave way to delicate ivories and curtains of copper-red was his partner, Chloe Pendleton. 

“You presume correctly,” Jihyun replied, glancing at the piece with a contented sort of look on his face. “May I ask your thoughts on this one?”

“Jihyun,” Chloe chided amusedly. There was a gentle wash of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her eyes were a pale, pale blue. “She hasn’t even had the opportunity to get a refreshment yet.”

“It’s fine,” Elle told her. It would have been an anticipated question at any exhibition, and to be frank, their home was more or less a gallery. Plus, she had never shied away from giving or receiving artistic critique; one cannot grow without it. 

“It really isn’t,” Chloe said, then let out a snort “You don’t know Jihyun, you’d be here all night discussing color theory if he had his way.”

“Forgive me.” A pause as Jihyun chuckled softly; his mint eyes crinkling at the corners. “Saeran has already shared some of your works with us, and given the stylistic differences between us, I was interested in your opinions.” 

“I’m flattered,” she said to make that point very clear. Most traditionalists viewed digital art as lesser, and while that had never bothered Elle, it did surprise her when she encountered the opposite. She put her trust in her abilities. It did not matter if she were using a pencil and paper or tablet and pen, only that Elle could take it with her everywhere. Which was essential because if she were unable to draw whatever might inspire her like, immediately, she’d end up agitated the idea had slipped by unclaimed. At the current moment, both were nestled in her bag off in the entryway.

Elle glanced over at Saeran and gently shook her head at the hint of pride in his smile. “Not many people who use oils would consider my opinion of any value.” 

Jihyun shrugged, just a slight lift to one shoulder. “The medium is irrelevant, as is the subject matter.”

“I agree on the medium, but as far as subject matter goes, that is not irrelevant,” Elle disagreed. “Art can never be truly objective or dispassionate. We are always compelled to bring our own biases into a piece. I do not know Chloe as you do, I would not be able to bring her into focus like this.”

“Indeed, you do not know her as I do, but if I were to approach you as one of your commissioners and ask you to capture her, to see her as I do, I believe you would bring Chloe into focus beautifully,” Jihyun replied. “It is already what you manage as you create fanart and personal pieces for your clients. To you, the subject matter is a fantasy; it lives in your imagination, and while it does not mean anything to you personally, the idea or feeling integrated into the piece does.”

“As I said,” Elle conceded, smiling. “We bring our biases into our work. Real or imagined.”

“We all search for something until we find it,” he replied. 

Chloe giggled then. “Perhaps Saeran and I are the ones in need of a drink.”

With a silent laugh, Jihyun shook his head. “Jumin said he hand-selected the wine for today’s celebration, and I’d be remiss to not try it.”

Saeran’s hand skimmed over the small of her back as he shifted his weight closer. “Would you like a glass?”

“Sure,” Elle said, slipping her arm around him. “It is for a special occasion, after all.”

“I’m glad you are here to enjoy it with us.”

At that Elle closed the slight distance between them, drawing close enough that Saeran could lean down to place a quick kiss on her mouth if he chose to. And he did. The light, lingering brush of his lips over hers seemed to awaken her senses, to intensify her awareness of her surroundings and what being here must mean to Saeran more than words ever could. 

“Me too.” 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her.

“Oh. Um. Actually, I’d rather steal Elle away for a moment,” Chloe interrupted hesitantly. Lines of concern appeared on Jihyun’s brow as their attention was drawn to something behind Elle. “You know, give her a little time to breathe before Saeyoung finally corners her.” 

“That’s not a terrible idea. It might help if I see what his conditions are to not completely embarrass me,” Saeran said dryly. 

He had warned her about his brother, but not quite in a way that would have been helpful. His simple,  _ you’ll see,  _ left Elle feeling inadequately prepared to speak at length with the person who mattered most to Saeran. 

“It’ll be fine,” Elle decided, talking more to herself than anyone around her. “I’ll come find you when I’m done?” 

“Please do,” he replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Instinctively, Elle released her hold on his waist, allowing Saeran to move away, and followed after Chloe the opposite direction. Just before they passed through the doorway, Elle looked back over her shoulder. She watched Saeran make some comment she could not discern, then the tears that had been threatening to spill onto Saeyoung’s cheeks finally did, even as he laughed and pulled Saeran into a giant hug.

“The food is tucked away in here too if you’d like anything to eat,” Chloe said, drawing Elle’s attention. 

“I hope you like fried chicken,” put in Saeyoung’s wife, Olivia, from where she was leaning against the countertop while she ate. 

The kitchen was very modern with clean, straight lines, and decorated in white, grey, and satin nickel. It was also equipped to a professional chef’s standards. On the center island, there were dishes like kimchi, cucumber salad, japchae, and even bungeoppang, but there was an alarming amount of fried chicken. 

“Why is there so much?”

As Chloe stared out over the set up with a slight frown, a shaft of light somehow forced its way through the hopelessly overcast sky to perfectly catch the golden glints in her hair. “There have been heated arguments between the guys over where you can find the best fried chicken, and we can only assume they’re trying to settle that debate once and for all.” 

Elle’s eyes widened. “I am so sorry. Had I realized this was a shared lunch, I would have brought something as well.” 

The lack of contribution was not Saeran’s fault; this embarrassment was hers alone. Elle had been distracted all week; he had probably told her, and she had missed it. The knowledge that Searan’s family and friends included people like Jumin Han and Zen made an already nerve-wracking situation downright terrifying. 

Chloe seemed to notice the panic on her face because she reached out a hand, resting it lightly on Elle’s arm. “It’s fine,” she assured, voice soft and utterly sincere. “We’re just glad that you’re here.”

“That is especially true for Saeyoung,” Olivia said with her long, flowing dark brown hair and kind, blue eyes. “So don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on Elle. Not only was this the first time the twins have been together for their birthday in eight years, but the first time Saeran had brought a girl home.

“Why would he t-try to do that?” Elle asked.

Chloe snorted, pouring them each a glass of the decanted red wine. “Because he thinks he’s hilarious.”

“I am hilarious,” Saeyoung announced, appearing as if summoned. 

Saeran, who was right on his heels, rolled his eyes, fondly exasperated perhaps. “I hope we’re not interrupting.” 

“Of course not,” Chloe replied, waving him off. 

Saeyoung squinted at her. “Watch out for that one, she steals kitties and gets them tattoos before returning them.”

Laughing, Chloe shook her head then took a drink, and Saeran said: “Just basically ignore everything he says.” 

At that, something flickered over Saeyoung’s face, but it was gone before Elle could process what it was. “I’m sure everyone else has already complimented you, so forgive me for doing it as well, but you draw a fantastic dick.”

Saeran sighed, looking up at the ceiling as if he were asking God  _ ‘why me,’  _ and Elle fought the smile pulling at her mouth. “I have done my fair share of anatomy studies,” she told him. 

“Oh, no, not  _ those  _ kinds of dicks. I was talking about Saeran,” he said with a wink and Elle laughed even as Saeran whacked his brother lightly on the shoulder. “See. I’m. Hilarious.” 

“Clearly,” she allowed, leaning into Saeran at her side. Having him close was a silent reminder that he wanted this as much as she did, that his initial distance had been something that stemmed from past experiences and not her. 

For Elle, trust was precious; not something to be given freely to everyone she met. Her previous relationships, few as they were, had come and gone at a pretty standard pace because of that. There was something about stripping herself bare and letting someone see her untextured that frightened Elle. In a way, it was the same for Saeran. It was hard to believe just how much he had endured. Just how much trust he had put in Elle by letting her in. 

He was so much more than what he would let the world believe. It was something that had Elle immediately falling for him, and she couldn’t deny that she was feeling more complete for it. Like Jihyun had said, everyone searched for something until they found it, and as the day progressed, she suspected Saeran felt the same. 

Sometimes they drifted apart, talking and laughing with whomever, but his eyes followed her everywhere. At least, they seemed to. Every time she glanced over at him, he was peeking at her too. And every time it happened, there was no stopping their smiles. It was the most open Elle had ever seen Saeran around a larger group of people. She was used to seeing him like this when they were at the bakery, but out in public, he tended to be far more reserved. Now, however, he seemed almost unaffected by it; snarking back at his brother as easily as he enjoyed a single glass of red wine with Jumin. 

When the evening drew to a close, Elle was content yet exhausted. The other guests looked ready to leave too, and they all decided to call it a night with no definitive fried chicken winner crowned. They headed outside as a group, splitting off to their respective vehicles once the farewells had been exchanged. Saeyoung and Olivia lingered because it seemed there was some unfinished business between the twins. 

“I have decided what I want for my final gift,” Saeyoung said, his tone making it clear that it was not a joke. 

“I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?” Saeran asked with a wry smile, and the other man grinned back, eyes lighting up.

“Naturally, otherwise, it wouldn’t be a gift, would it?” 

Saeran was not amused. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Eagle me.”

“Once around the house,” he negotiated, closing the distance between them. “And no arguing because this constitutes embarrassing myself so it’s technically two gifts.” 

Elle watched, with mild bewilderment, as Saeyoung then jumped onto Saeran’s back. Once he was situated, Saeran stuck his arms straight out and started running while Saeyoung put a fist up in the air and yelled  _ eaaagleeee.  _ As they disappeared from view, Olivia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Digging into her purse, she drew out the car keys before looking over at Elle again.

“Welcome to the family,” she said. Then Elle received an unexpected hug. 

She’d been on her own for seven years now. Before that, her parents hadn't been anywhere near as caring or thoughtful or willing to give without receiving.  Elle stood there a second or two, not knowing what to do with her arms, jaw locked tight against any outburst of emotion. But then she carefully placed her hands on Olivia’s back and leaned into the contact.

“Thank you,” Elle managed. 

At the sound of approaching footsteps muffled by the lush grass and laughter, Olivia patted her on the back before her arms dropped aside. 

“Until next time,” she said, and Elle nodded, leaning against Saeran’s car. 

When Saeyoung’s feet hit the ground again, Saeran’s grin faded, and the teasing glint left his eyes. The lighthearted air of a moment ago was instantly gone as they threw an arm around one another. They had been reunited against all the odds, and she wondered if this was how they had been before. Perhaps they were just older, definitely more cynical, but still endlessly supportive. 

“Happy birthday.” 

“Happy birthday, brother,” Saeran replied. “I’ll see you at home.” 

“Don’t be a stranger, Ellenora,” Saeyoung tossed back over his shoulder and Elle blinked, more surprised at hearing her full name than the fact he knew it. She certainly didn’t mind, it was just going to take some getting used to. 

“May I ask what the eagle thing was about?” She was rewarded with that beautiful blush, and Elle sighed inwardly, thinking she could spend all day watching Saeran blush and be content. 

“While I was off—trying to figure things out, he bought me gifts for Christmas and on our birthday and saved them. Just in case I was still out there. And I decided the least I could do was a few extra things to show him my appreciation.” 

“You’re lucky. To have all this.” 

Hands in his pockets, Saeran took a moment to study her. His golden eyes traced her every facial feature with some unfathomable emotion, making her pulse race. 

“I am,” he said, taking her into his arms and hugging her tightly to him.

With her heart pounding so hard it threatened to leap from her chest, all Elle could think to say was: “I love you.”

His answer was a kiss, and it was full of everything she knew he had to give. It was clear what he was trying to say, and Elle set out to imprint in her memory the things she would be unable to replicate like the exact flavor of mint lingering on his tongue and the way they breathed each other in as their mouths parted.

Then he was laughing. Saeran’s laugh was beautiful, and it lit up his whole face. 

“I love you, too,” he said, lowering his smiling mouth back to hers and as the kiss deepened, Elle realized she was the lucky one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) japchae = glass noodle stir fry  
> (2) bungeoppang = fish buns, courtesy of Saeyoung, of course.  
> (3) How one is "eagled":  
> 


	5. Like the moon pulls the sea.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Saeran has dealt with enough shit in his life, I don't plan on making him deal with anymore. This is just literally me giving him a GE post V’s Forgive AE, so it won't end up being a very long fic. Based on my current outline, I'm about halfway done.

After his childhood, after Rika and Mint Eye, and after his return to Korea, up until he met Elle, in those months between, Saeran had finally found something like stability. Of course, Jihyun had provided the foundation of it while he was recovering. But there had been limits to Saeran’s freedom, and thus, on his ability to self-regulate. Necessary limits for his own well being, even if for the longest time Saeran hadn’t understood why anyone would even care. 

All that pain. All that bitter rage. It could be destructive or instructive. Focusing or distracting. It had been his only tool, his only way to stay grounded. At least, until Saeran had learned the truth and then it had torn him apart. 

Helping piece him back together, it had probably taken more time than Jihyun had planned for. Not that they hadn’t had ample amounts of it. In fact, there had been so much time Saeran hadn’t known what to do with it all. Eventually, it felt unnatural and anxiety-inducing. A cold sensation of dread would unfurl in the pit of his stomach when he had tried to relax for too long, and he’d itch to bury himself in work.

Now, it was easier to manage. Empty hours no longer felt futile or poisonous. Mainly because when they did, Saeran could occupy himself however he needed without feeling like he was running against some eternal countdown for his own life. 

He felt able to breathe. 

With Elle, however, he felt that sense of pressure, slight as it was in comparison. 

Perspective had made him realize it was an unfortunate side effect of her becoming an integral part of his day-to-day life. Each step in solidifying their relationship seemed to knock Saeran a little more off-kilter. That was thanks to the knowledge that he’d have to relearn how to stabilize without her. Rationally, he knew that would be true of anyone important to him, but it made the possibility no less unpleasant to consider.

Saeran sighed and turned his face up into the spray as he washed away the dirt and grime from his skin. Elle had invited him over to her apartment for dinner and a movie, and it felt significant somehow. All week, no matter what he did to distract himself, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When he was finished, he dried off and redressed, pulling on more presentable clothes. Outside, the sky was clear, and the evening sun was glaring off the windows on the high-rise buildings, making the city shine even brighter. 

It was a strange feeling, to park in the spot designated for Elle. She didn’t own a car herself but had kept the reserved space for the occasional visitor. Earlier that day, she had texted him the space number and the main door code to her building, so he was able to go directly inside. Not wanting to risk standing idle for an indeterminate amount of time, Saeran bypassed the elevators and chose to climb the stairs. On the fourth floor, he took note of the apartment numbers on the doors he passed, searching for the plate matching the number he knew to be hers. 

When he found it, Saeran smoothed his hand down the front of his shirt. Then, with only the slightest bit of hesitation, he reached up and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, there was the sound of hurried movement, and Saeran stepped back a little as the door swung inward. 

Elle was dressed far more casually than Saeran was used to seeing her, which was perfectly reasonable since she was in her own home. She wore soft grey shorts and a loose red t-shirt. 

“You’re late,” Elle said, emphasizing the words with a wry smile. 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Not all of us work from home.”

She exhaled in amusement, and Saeran leaned down to steal a kiss before offering her a bouquet of lavender accented with congo grass and stoebe with a touch of reminisce. 

Its presence on their dates at Big Sky Bakery had been innocent enough. Lavender represented many things. It was a symbol of refinement, grace, and elegance, or silence and serenity, even caution. But when given as a gift, it was a sign of love and devotion. 

Saeran suspected Elle knew that. Especially since as she lightly fingered a flower, dried so she could keep it always, she smiled softly. After all, they had briefly discussed flower languages in the past, and she had seemed curious enough to look into it further on her own. 

“Thank you,” she said, standing aside to create enough space for Saeran to step by. 

“You’re welcome, and I am sorry I’m late,” he told her. “It was a long day.”

Elle shut the door behind them. “There’s no need to apologize.”

Absently, Saeran nodded as he took in the room he had just walked into. The studio apartment was bigger than he had expected but still modest in size. Two shallow steps running the length of the room acted as a dividing line between where he stood in the kitchen and dining space and the living area. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows were set along the entire far wall. In the corner, a bedroom was cordoned off by glass walls, which were partially curtained for privacy, and a door off to Saeran’s right led to what was presumably a bathroom. Apart from that, the rest of the apartment was in full view. It was immaculate, mainly colored in whites and dark browns that gave it a crisp, professional feel. 

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she added, lightly touching his back on her way past him.  

“Me too,” he replied because it was true. Being in Elle’s home was significant, Saeran realized. It was like his presence in her sketchbook, meaningful and private, and something she willingly shared with him because she trusted him. 

Elle squatted down and began rummaging around in a cabinet. “And just so you know, you’re more than welcome to shower here next time, if you’d like.” 

The corner of his mouth slowly curled upward. The employee showers provided at the conservatory were clean, but the water was lukewarm at best. He had complained about it in passing a few weeks ago. It was apparent she assumed quiet nights in like this would become a regular occurrence where such an offer could be taken advantage of. 

“I might take you up on that,” he allowed, walking further into the room to assist with whatever he could. 

Elle stood and placed a golden vase on the countertop. “Good.” 

“What are we having?” Saeran asked, glancing over at the pot on the stove that simmering away. “It smells great.”

“Sundubu-jjigae,” Elle replied. “It’s ready if you’d like to do the honors and crack a couple eggs into it while I get this arrangement situated.”

Saeran did just that, then turned off the burner before hunting through the nearby drawers for a couple of potholders since Elle had wandered off to find a home for his gift. During his search, he also found a ladle, which he set in the soup for easier transport, then moved the pot onto the mat in the center of the table. He was in the process of serving the soup when Elle returned.

“I dialed down the spice some, just for you,” she said, leaning close but not quite touching him. 

Saeran laughed a little at that as he trailed the ladle through the broth a second time, watching the curls of steam rise from the pot. 

“I like spicy food perfectly fine,” he reminded. 

“I know,” she said simply, and then her fingers briefly swept through his hair.

Once seated, Saeran lightly blew across a spoonful before allowing the soup to wash over his tongue, aware of her eyes on him.

“Is it alright?” Elle asked warily. 

The soup was spicy, but not unpleasantly so. Elle preferred abnormal amounts of heat, but for him, it was a developed taste. After all, appropriately spiced meals hadn’t been readily available his entire life. Adjusting the dish with that in mind had been very thoughtful of her. 

“It’s perfect.”

She smiled back at him, relieved, and took a mouthful of her own food. 

Time passed quickly, as it always did in her presence, talking about the details of their day and simply enjoying wherever the conversation took them as they ate. Eventually, he got around to sharing some news. Earlier, before he had left work, his supervisor had sought him out to suggest Saeran get a degree in horticultural sciences. While he enjoyed his job, it might be nice to give more input than he was currently allowed regarding future changes to the park and temporary exhibits. Naturally, he wanted Elle’s opinion on the matter.

Unsurprisingly, she readily supported the idea, and Saeran was inclined to assume the rest of his family and friends would react similarly. The only potential hiccup would be Saeyoung’s insistence that he cover the expenses. Given his wealth, it would be a non-issue; however, Saeran didn’t want to have everything just handed to him for the rest of his life. His brother, Jihyun, and the rest of RFA members, they’ve given him a clean slate, a chance at a real life, and that alone was more than he had ever dared dream. 

Saeran didn’t voice any of that to Elle, because she knew what it was to crave to pave her own way forward. Their histories were different, and yet the result of their hardships so similar. It seemed a little cruel, if he thought about it, what they had to endure to get to this moment. But what mattered was that it was entirely theirs. 

And that they were happy. 

After the meal, they cleaned up together in comfortable silence, and Saeran marveled at how easily they slipped into relaxed domesticity. They worked around each other naturally as if this wasn’t his first time there, and the kitchen was spotless again within minutes. 

They then moved over to the single couch, ice cream in hand, and settled in to watch  _ Incipience.  _ It was some Christmas Nolam film Elle had been offended to learn he hadn’t seen. Once finished with dessert, they placed the bowls onto the low table and stretched out. Elle tucked against him, and he held her close and idly played with her fingers. 

They continued on that way for a little while, both watching the screen. It had an intriguing plot and was a welcome distraction considering he’d been given a new path to contemplate. Not to mention, the peace of the moment was relaxing. Her toes kept brushing against the top of his foot, and when Elle began to rub firm circles into the palm of his hand with her thumbs, he pressed an appreciative kiss to her shoulder.

She shifted in his arms then, and Saeran watched the way the light from the television threw muted colors across her pale skin. Her fingers slipped along his jaw before moving closer and kissing him. 

One slow, gentle kiss rolled into another and then another. There was a natural rise and fall to them, and Saeran savored the ability to simply kiss her because he could. To be able to kiss her without it meaning goodbye or having to cut it short for propriety's sake. 

The unrestrained exploration of her mouth left Saeran with no room for anything else in his mind except her. He became acutely aware of her soft, gentle curves against him, of the warmth flooding through his veins, and her hand on his neck. Her fingers lightly caressed the skin under the collar of his shirt.

Then it moved down. 

A button came undone, and his breath caught in his chest. The arousal tightening in his abdomen was sharp and unfamiliar. Blood was beginning to flush into his length. He could feel himself thickening a little, just in response to the whisper of a promise. Saeran couldn’t quite bring himself to be worried about it, because he was having problems getting past the fact that this was actually happening. 

That she wanted him. 

His hand had slipped under her shirt, gripping the flare of her hip as he kissed her. But when he began to tentatively play at the waistband of her shorts, Elle closed her hand around his to still it.  

“Now’s not a good time for me,” she said.

There was a moment where all he felt was confusion, then another soon after, where his cheeks reddened as he realized what she had meant. 

“I’m sorry.” He tried to remove his hand from her, but Elle continued to hold it in place. 

Her fingers were wrapped around his, and her thumb slid along his wrist. “That doesn’t mean we have to stop. There are other things we can do.” 

“We don’t have to,” he said immediately, wanting to make the point very clear. 

Saeran didn’t imagine their first time being intimate would surmount to Elle giving freely while she got nothing in return herself. He wasn’t impatient for things to progress past what they currently had. He could wait. Indefinitely for all he cared. It could stay like this between them forever, and it would be enough. He had the love of an amazing woman, and nothing could ever cloud that over. 

The corner of her mouth curled up as her hand drifted to his face to trace his cheekbone. It was barely a touch at all, and yet it sent a shiver of anticipation through him. 

“I want to,” Elle said, then brushed her lips against his as her fingers finished following the path down the placket of his shirt. 

Saeran swallowed when Elle pulled back to push it open. 

Scar tissue covered the left side of his chest. It spanned from the bottom of his ribcage and wrapped up and over his shoulder. His arm, almost to the elbow, was also affected, and his left nipple had been partially burned away. Most of the scar was puckered and silvery, matching the one splashed across the left side of his face.

He wanted to apologize or pull his shirt close, but then her fingertips skimmed across the worst of it just over his heart. A fluttering touch of warmth that seemed to sink through the deadened skin and straight into him, smudging away the edges of his apprehension. Then Elle pushed up to lean over Saeran, and he parted his lips as she kissed him. 

She kissed him deeply, bringing her left hand up to trace along the curve of his jaw, and licked slowly into his mouth. Her other hand was on his stomach and moved lower, stroking over his hip before lightly palming his swelling hardness. Saeran drew a stuttering breath against her mouth as his belt came undone. 

Elle broke the kiss and said, “I love you.” 

He met her eyes. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew she could feel it. “I love you too.” 

“Can I?” 

He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, her flushed cheeks and parted lips. He didn’t need someone to explain what the expression on her face was. He could feel it. It was a heat in his chest and the thrum in his veins. And he would do anything to have her look at him like that. 

He nodded. “Yes.” 

Her lips returned to his, then Elle unzipped his pants to slide her hand inside. Her fingers carefully wrapped around his length. The way she touched him, slowly and attentively, the warmth, the friction, and the sensation of her skin against his. She seemed to be paying meticulous attention to how he reacted, stroking him until Saeran had to break the kiss, breathless and overwhelmed with sensation and emotions.

He hadn’t known it was like this. 

He hadn’t understood. 

Now he did. 

He trailed his thumbs over her cheekbones as he held her face in his hands a moment then pulled her closer to rest his forehead against hers. Before he could get his bearings, Elle slipped out of his hold and began to kiss down his sternum. Her breath teased his skin as much as her mouth did as she moved to settle between his legs. Saeran looked up at the ceiling, giving a ragged gasp as the tip of him slid into a heat that seemed impossible. 

Her mouth was so warm and wet, and he shivered at the sensation. Every nerve ending in his body coming alive under her careful touch. The pleasure seemed to surround him, then seep into his very being. He began making little noises beyond his breathing because of it. Soft, naturally guarded moans he couldn’t stifle or control. And despite his best efforts at keeping his hands to himself, Saeran realized one of his them was positively tangled in her hair.

He glanced down, and the sight of her small hand wrapped around him and his length in her mouth as she slowly worked him— It—it—

He didn’t know how to process it. 

The pressure—it was as though he were being wound tight somewhere inside. 

“Elle, I—“ he gasped as he somehow slid deeper into the welcoming heat of her mouth. Saeran unfisted his free hand to thread his fingers with her other where it was resting on his thigh, seeking a way to ground himself.

He could feel his pulse racing. His breaths kept growing shorter and shorter, and it felt like he was about to break into a million pieces, and he didn’t want to have to piece himself back together— _ again.  _ It was a mildly disconcerting feeling, but he also knew that with Elle, he was always safe. And with that thought, Saeran finally stopped the part of his mind that over-analyzed everything. 

A strange, broken noise left him as he finally came, and distantly he worried his hands were clutching her too hard. He must not have been because she had shifted off of him without notice and kissed his temple. Saeran wrapped his arms around her, pressing Elle into his bare chest. 

She brushed her fingertips over his heart and sighed contentedly. “I want you to stay tonight.” 

He gave a faint smile and buried his face in her hair. Saeran was well aware that everything that had transpired this evening wouldn’t be some vital revelation for most people. However, for him, it permanently loosened something inside him. 

Elle wanted him to stay. Elle wanted him. And Saeran would always be thankful to her for that. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Sundubu-jjigae is a spicy, soft tofu stew. The dish is traditionally served directly from the cooking vessel while still bubbling hot & raw egg(s) can be put in just before serving. It's typically eaten with a bowl of cooked white rice & I'm going to teach myself how to make this...
> 
> (2) Inspo for the arrangement Saeran gives Elle can be found [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1c2YMOJCFtfAqv1_N9edRdnx8xh5qqcK-/view?usp=sharing).

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! ♥️


End file.
